


aren't all the pretty boys happy?

by circleofplanets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Obsessive Tom Riddle, POV Tom Riddle, Romance, Soft Harry Potter, Soft Tom Riddle (only for harry), Teenage Tom Riddle, Timeline What Timeline, bad childhood, the golden triad of tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circleofplanets/pseuds/circleofplanets
Summary: An unexpected dare. Depraved morals. Sinister intentions. Friend turned foe.What's at stake?A valuable property and Harry Potter's virginity.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 55
Kudos: 481





	1. Chapter 1

_And I'm so happy_   
_'Cause aren't all the pretty girls happy?_

_Right, right, right_   
_Right, right_

_Pretty Head_ **Transviolet**

Things never changed.

The cobblestone of the driveway besmirched with tracks, the long scratch on his age-old car, the unending trail of palm trees, the automatic golden gates of Brooklyn High and the same catty smiles of friends of choice.

Pulling into the reserved spot, Tom Marvolo Riddle closed his eyes. Exhaustion usually came in waves but today he felt he was drowning in it. It was piercing his marrow and settling inside.

A knock on his window and then the pale face of Rabastan Lestrange was squashed against it. And then the face started grinning.

With a sigh, Tom opened his door and climbed out. Bellatrix was already regaling the group about the weekend bash she attended at Carraway's beach house.

Tom swiped the joint tucked behind her ear and took a long, plumous drag. Then he dropped and crushed it under the heel of his Oxford shoes.  There was a whirl of long, curly hair and then Bellatrix Black was right in his face, irritation nestled in the Langer's lines.

"I wasn't done with it, bitch. That shit costs two grand."

The caustic words rolled right off him, oily beads of letters leaving no trace. Tom wasn't interested in humouring Black today, so he tipped her chin and stared right into her eyes. "Bella, _behave_."

Despite worshiping every part of Tom, right down to the atomic substructure, Bella could never direct the same emotion towards his eyes. The Blacks were steeped in covert satanic rituals and  Bella was adherent to the teachings. He knew what she thought about his red eyes. He _knew._

He wasn't above using it.

Just as quickly he had given her attention, he pulled it back and shifted to lean on Lestrange's Range Rover. He listened with a half-ear to the conversation that was now more subdued, Bella trying to forget her fear and the others remembering it.

The parking lot was filled with cliques, each group occupying the same spot since they had started high school. He deigned a small nod to acknowledge the waves from them, their eyes holding the same glint of desire, envy, jealousy. He could crack their heads open and the same garish thoughts would flow, rotten from age. Kept close past the expiration date.

The boredom was back. A sludge in his mind that he was wading through, limbless and hopeless. The thought of leaving this place in a few months provided little solace. College would also be seen through a monochrome haze after a while.

Their conversation must have dried up for Rosier came to stand in front of him, the Lestrange brothers flanking him while Bella sidled up to Tom. They were trying to read his mood so he offered them a small smile.

"So Luna Lovegood let an interesting piece of news slip. Apparently, Harry Potter is a virgin," Rabastan shared in a gleeful tone, breaking the silence.

This piece of information did nothing to arouse his interest. You would have to show a smidgen of attraction towards others to have sex and from what he has seen, Harry Potter had a roiling mess of thoughts that didn't give him enough respite to even dip his toe in casual dating.

That boy was damaged. And Tom could see it all.

"Last week in lab, Rose Hauster was all over him and he didn't even fuckin' notice. Just went on tinkering with the test tubes and answering politely," Rabastan extrapolated in an incredulous tone and then he was looking at Tom.

Lestrange had always wanted to fuck Rose Hauster. But she had wanted Tom. He had taken her in the backseat of his car and was probably her first. He hardly even remembered the encounter, only remembered having done it because Rabastan had challenged him.

The younger Lestrange had the same glint in his eyes now that he did back then.

The blue-eyed male tipped his head back and threw the challenge in the air as expected. "I wonder if our Head Boy here can do it. After all he is perfection fuckin' personified."

The jesting tone couldn't mask the bitterness coiled inside. He could see Rodolphus throw a warning glance at his brother but of course, Rabastan didn't take notice. He still thought himself to be out of Tom's sphere of control and that he had agency in this little group of theirs.

"I thought last time was enough," Tom replied in a throaty voice. God, he was itching for a cigarette. 

Rabastan had a mean smirk now and slowly leant forward to whisper. "Pussying out already?"

The tall male had not made eye-contact up until now but now he did. He had a meaner smirk that dripped with the knowledge of superiority and charm he had in spades. "What do I get if I win?"

Lestrange faltered in his act. So he really was trying to establish a teasing game of dominance, bagging on the fact that Tom didn’t like engaging in deals. He might have ignored it any other day but today Tom felt a bit sadistic.

”W-what do you want?"

What did Tom want? To stop being pulled into games with low stakes and no excitement.

"I want your house in Aspen."

He watched with hidden glee as the Lestrange brothers processed the news and the shock that came with it. The Lestrange house in Aspen was the main property Rabastan was set to inherit and this knowledge had been hidden beneath the flashing nuggets of invaluable properties they name-dropped in conversations.

The older Lestrange controlled his anger at the audacious demand while the younger simply gave way to it. "Hey! What the fuck do you think you are asking?" 

_ Silence. _

Pin-drop silence.

It may have been some years since he dropped the effort of converting them into his little, obedient soldiers and allowed them leeway in terms of interactions with him. But they still knew the unspoken boundaries. Except one.

Tom tilted his head as every molecule of his body turned cold. "Would you rather I have your tongue?"

Rabastan's eyes widened and he took a step back as Tom took one forward. And then another. Until he was leaning down and whispering softly,"Pussying out already?"

At the look of utter fear, the Head Boy laughed.

"So it's a done deal. Cheer up. This might actually turn out to be...fun."

No one gave a word of protest. Neither did anyone ask what Rabastan would get if Tom failed. They all knew how this would end.

He savoured the ill-looks on their faces, the terrifying reminder of the person hiding behind the charming face, the dark abomination that walked among them, the half-god. 

Things never changed.

And the wheel kept on turning.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Lilian Doppler's narration filled the classroom, embroiled in the emotions evoked by Tolstoy's Krieg und Frieden and ignorant of the students lack of attention. Today, Tom was part of the herd.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

He had rolled around the idea of dropping German classes since he was already fluent by now and he wanted to free up some more time on his schedule. But that's all he did. Rolled it round and round till the idea was squashed. 

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

The girl behind him smacked her lips loudly and chewed her gum. Heisenberg sitting diagonally had just finished his seventh paper airplane and would be flying them any minute now.

A gust of wind from the partially opened window ruffled his hair and he realised he didn't want to be here. 

_ Tap. _

_ Tap. _

He pocketed his pen, whisked away his coat from the chair and after a weak excuse, left the classroom. The corridor was empty as he made several right turns till he was slamming open the back gates and was released into the fresh air.

It was cold today and his fingers itched for a cigarette. Unfortunately, he had finished his pack during lunch break. He looked around to spy a lone smoker and saw one leaning against the brick wall near the bramble bushes.

As he drew closer, he realised it was Harry Potter. It had been three days since the deal took place and frankly, he hadn't thought much about it. Juxtaposed to his other priorities, the deal paled in terms of importance. Moreover, Rabastan, being the witless fool that he was, hadn’t set any end date.

Potter was quite handsome and came from money. But so were the hundred and fifty other students that attended Brooklyn High. He was wearing a long, beige coat that looked cheap, black slacks that he wore four days out of five and his hair looked ready for a bird to lay eggs in. The appeal dropped further.

But when Harry turned to look at him as he approached, he knew why despite all the cons, Tom always observed him.

Those green, broken eyes were _too much._

"Mind if I bump a cigarette?"

Tom pulled out a cigarette from the presented Marlboro pack and when Harry offered his lighter, Tom locked eyes with him and didn't let go. He slowly cupped his hands around the surprisingly rough ones, pressed the other's thumb and then brought it closer to the cigarette trapped between his pink lips.

Then just as quickly, Tom let go and gathered the attention he had given.When he looked from the corner of his eyes, the green-eyed male seemed peaceful. Truthfully, he looked... _unaffected_. 

Tom felt a frisson of irritation and tamped it down. He took a drag and then gazed at the lighter held between pale fingers as he slowly released the smoke.

"What's the print on the lighter? Seems unique," he asked curiously.

Harry rolled his head to the side and looked at him. Then he flicked his eyes down and extended the lighter to him.

"It was gifted to me by Hermione. She had a _havan_ at her new house last summer."

Tom nodded in understanding. "Right. She is Hindu."

The cover had geometric circles of black and white, intersecting at various gradations to give alternate black and white spots. A configuration of symbols beyond his knowledge with letterings below it. He could feel the zip of excitement at the prospect of gaining new information and when he looked up to ask, Harry was already observing him.

"It's a _Harmony Mandala_. There is stability within the four divisions. A Balanced Integrity will be experienced when we create the same structure of foundation within our _Heart_ ," Harry explained with a gesture to his chest," and _Mind_."

"White is the lace of Infinite Purity and Black," he paused and then wrapped his fingers around Tom's, gripping the lighter with him. "Black is the ultimate contrast."

In a mimicry of Tom's action from before, viridian eyes bored into his and then those lithe fingers were sliding his accessory out of the taller male's hand.

Tom suddenly felt utterly naked.

He could feel a yarn of unease lodged in his throat and swallowed around it. Harry Potter had glimpsed the face hidden behind his _Noh_ mask in a single interaction.

He took another long drag and grappled for a distraction. "What's the lettering below the Mandala?"

"It's Sanskrit for _'As Above So Below'_." The shorter male crushed his cigarette against the wall and then threw it into the cornerside dustbin. "The bell is going to ring." 

"Goodbye Tom."

And with that soft parting phrase, his lean figure walked away and disappeared round the corner of the Indoor Sports Building.

It seems Tom had made a grave miscalculation. Harry Potter wasn't only damaged. He was also a highly perceptive one. The deal had just become more interesting.

He smoked till the bell rung. Till the cigarette was reduced to a nub. Till the smile disappeared.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

The next three weeks saw the commencement of a 'bunking German' spree. He had Doppler charmed and being the son of head donor of the school ensured he didn't face any problems. He was quite irregular about it though. Attending some and skipping many.

But through it all, Harry Potter never failed to show up. A permanent fixture with nicotine stained nails. 

Climatic conditions failed to dissuade him. Tom had even seen him once smoking under an umbrella in heavy rain.

He should have grown bored by now. The yellowing bricks washed out by acid rain. The green side bench with chipped paint. The dull skyline broken by the waving branches at the periphery.The broken boy with unwashed pants and uncombed hair. 

For the first time, he saw the same scenery and didn't feel the numb, prosaic fingers grappling at him from the sludge. It felt like a break in an infinite loop. A point where time stood still. A glitch in the matrix. A touch of otherness. 

Some days they would talk. Some days they would stay silent. And then there were those special days where they would smoke and look at each other. Simply take the other in. 

Tom loved those special days.

Their conversations fluctuated from superficial to personal, from friends to family, from simple to intellectual. Tom always reached their spot with some preconceived idea of what conversation would take place and Harry would simply gather those ideas in a bucket and throw the damned bucket at his face. 

Tom loved it.

The deal had slowly receded to the back of his mind, especially when no one in his group mentioned it. Rabastan had also grown comfortable, hoping that Tom forgot about it. Until he had stumbled across Harry and Tom talking a few days ago when he himself had come for a smoke break. After that, the younger Lestrange was hardly seen.

On one of their special days, he got to know that Harry was apparently a divination fanatic. He carried a satchel filled with small animal bones, hidden in the inside pocket of his coat. Tom would have found it ridiculous if he hadn't witnessed the ardency with which Harry believed in higher powers. If Tom believed anything, it was that sheer will had this uncanny ability of changing things in the microcosm.

This developing acquaintance had also given root to the desire to share his inner, darker thoughts. A fledgling urge to suffocate Potter with it until he was like Tom too. Or perhaps cleanse him of them. He knew entertaining thoughts of murder in the face of even the slightest disrespect was not right. 

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, he still imagines pulling out Rabastan's tongue and cutting it with a single slice of his knife.

But that was not all. Sometimes he thought about orchestrating convoluting ways of murder simply out of boredom. Now he knew _that_ was wrong.

He wanted something from Harry but he couldn't pinpoint what. For now though, he had every intention of keeping Harry Potter.

Until he grows bored again.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

"Do you believe in paradise?"

"What?"

"Like in heaven and hell shit."

"In terms of places? No. Heaven and hell is a state of mind. Those in power are in heaven and those without it in hell."

"Heaven and hell is what you create."

"It's what you _take_."

"Ha ha. Fuck. Sounds like something a billionaire would say to justify their wealth while the world rots in poverty."

"If you want your paradise, you gotta fuckin' take."

"Not everyone is capable of it."

"Weak."

"Ha ha. You are a fuckin' riot...did you know there is a belief that we are all trapped in a cycle of rebirth and your salvation lies in having mega karma points?"

"Sounds dreary."

"It is."

"You never know. Even if we reach paradise, who's to say it's any different? God has forsaken all."

"As above, so below huh?"

"And as below, so above." Then Tom grinned. And Harry grinned back.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

Fall had come like a silent intruder at night, carrying with it new memories and revelations. The leaves changed their hues and so did their relationship.

It was under the drapery of the auburn sky and standing on the crisp, sunburnt leaves that Harry told Tom about his dysfunctional family.

Tom wasn't much surprised. Such families were kind of the norm in richer strata. All that greed rots your conscience. 

Apparently, Lily Potter was a serial adulteress and James Potter drank himself to oblivion to forget that. Until now, Harry had only talked about parts of his childhood which had been simple and unloved. The older male had easily parsed out that the Potter heir had lived a neglectful life.

"We only had maids with morning shifts coming in like clockwork. By twelve they would be out and the house empty. Mother used to say it was to cultivate self-dependance and shit but it was actually to hide the presence of her lovers. She still has the charade going on, god knows why. Father already knows."

Harry gave a sudden silly laugh then. “I remember when I was eleven and this one-night stand was sneaking out through the kitchen door. He hadn’t expected to see me sitting on the floor and eating out of a Nutella jar.” He covered his eyes with his arm and releaseda sigh.

“By then, mind you, I had understood what was going on and was no longer oblivious to it. I looked straight into his eyes and invited him to sit with me on the floor. For fifteen minutes, I engaged him in conversation. Asked all sorts of things about him. Through it all, I watched him squirm.”

“I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to see Lily not as some one-night stand whose memory he could throw under a trap door when he went back home but rather as Lily with a child, with a husband. _With a family_. I wanted him to see Lily for who she was, realise what kind of disgusting charade he had partaken it.”

Tom spied the small smile on Harry’s face and felt his own darkness stir. Power had such a heady scent.

He blew out few smoke rings. "What about your father? What kind of drunk is he?"

"A mean one."

After that, Harry clamped shut and they chain-smoked for a while. It was in one such conversations that Tom got to know that the raven-haired male did part-time work at a small coffee place on East Side. It was a stepping stone towards extricating himself from family support.

"Why do that? Just take the money and estrange yourself." Harry only laughed in response. Probably because he heard the hollow in Tom's voice and knew the older male understood his reasons.

How could he not when he himself felt the same?

From that day onwards, Tom visited the coffee shop everyday after school and left giant tips before leaving.

Tom knew he was becoming obsessed. But he wanted to enjoy the unexpected vibrancy in his life before the loop fixed itself and the boredom set in again.

It also didn't help that every time he saw Harry, he felt reborn again.

** ⍖  ** ⎮⎮ ** ⍏ **

Harry had a late shift on Friday so Tom ditched his group plans to attend Tanikawa's birthday bash and kept him company. Harry was a terrible waiter. But he was earnest and charming so he didn't get fired.

It was twelve o'clock and the last persistent customer had just left. Harry whooped like a complete doofus and twirled towards the broom and bucket in the corner. He flashed Tom a smile over his shoulder and Tom tried to hide his. "How long until your shift ends?"

"If no customer arrives, then half an hour," came the reply as the lean boy scrubbed the floor, aiming to peel shavings off the wooden boardings.

Riddle gave a tired sigh. He had planned to go on a night stroll with Harry but if his shift dragged on, he might get too tired. 

"Why aren't you out anyway? I'm pretty sure Black was screaming about some party today."

Tom gave him a puzzled look. "Why do you think?"

At the answering shrug, Tom rolled his eyes. "You had a night shift today instead of evening. So I ditched the party."

He could see that he had surprised the other boy and raised an eyebrow at the subsequent blush. He couldn't believe this was what got a reaction out of Harry and not all the constant staring and few flirtatious touches. This boy was exasperating.

Tom slowly pushed his chair back and got up. He took a step forward and he could see Potter take one back. There was an undercurrent of tension now, a thread slowly stretching at the seams. They had been dancing around each other for two months now and Tom finally found the moment he had been waiting for. The moment to cement their relationship and begin his plan of dependancy. Two nights ago, he had come to the conclusion that Harry might be his endgame. And he certainly didn't let go of what belonged to him.

He walked closer until Harry was pressed against the counter and he couldn't step back any further. Tom still didn't relent. He kept on moving closer until his whole frame was slowly and lightly pressed against Harry's.

Harry was avoiding looking at him, his head lowered and eyes fixated on the floor boards. Tom felt himself smiling. "Harry." He still didn't look at Tom.

Tom bent his head to initiate eye contact and Harry immediately turned his head to the right. Tom gave a look and then followed his lead. Harry did a one hundred and eighty overhead rotation and Tom laughed. "Harry. Harry. Harry."

"WHAT?" Harry exclaimed with an adorable pout and Tom couldn't take it any longer. He softly cupped Harry's warm cheeks, tipped his head up and planted his lips on soft ones.

Tom felt a shiver run through him and stepped impossibly closer. He felt shrouded by Harry's smell, blinded by the momentous feeling and deaf to anything but the boy in front of him.

Tom lifted his head slightly and partially opened his eyes to chance a look at Harry. His eyes widened when he saw those green eyes staring back.

Those _terrible, terrible_ green eyes.

He surged forward and kissed Harry harder with their eyes still open and locked with each other. The kiss was slow, roiling, hot. He stopped and captured that beautiful mouth again and again, insatiable to the end.

A slow swipe of his tongue and Harry opened his mouth wider, responding with as much passion, as much softness, as much pain. Their eyes never left each other.

They kissed for god knows how long. Time felt like a bloody illusion. He had Harry seated on the counter and his legs wrapped around Tom's waist. Every sound elicited drove Tom crazy.

When Harry finally tried to stop, Tom resisted. "Come on. I have to finish cleaning the place," he whispered against Tom's lips. "No." And then Tom renewed his assault. This happened two more times before Harry got fed up and yanked Tom's head back. 

"Mmm. I like that."

He and Harry stared at each other blankly and then Harry started laughing uncontrollably the next second. Tom didn't know why he said that. The line had just come out, the ghost of a dialogue from an age-old movie. _Fuckin' Bella._ This was all her fault and her need to involve him in movie nights

Tom could feel the tips of his ears turning red as he kept his face impassive in front of a laughing Harry.

"You are going to laugh yourself into convulsions," Tom replied agitatedly.

"Maybe you should yank my hair this time to make me stop," Harry remarked before bursting into more laughter.

That did it. Tom quickly stepped back and turned around to walk away, his long legs powered by anger.

He heard scraping and then thud of footsteps. "Tom! Wait!"

Tom ignored him and only got the door partially opened before it was slammed close. He looked at the red, dishevelled face of the boy he was kissing ardently few minutes ago and felt his want of escaping waning. 

"Hey," Harry said softly and cupped his right cheek. Tom involuntarily leant into it." I am sorry. I was nervous and excited and just gave into it."

The older boy felt his anger and embarrassment recede. "Hmm." Harry smiled at him and then rolled his eyes. "In my defence, I wasn't expecting you to go all Anastasia Steel on me." It took a moment for the words to register. "Who?"

He got a laugh in reply and then Harry was cupping his other cheek. "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for forgetting what a sensitive bitch you are."

Tom snorted and then tossed a cruel remark. "Is that what your Mother says when she is kicking out her crying one-night stands?"

Harry looked taken aback for a moment and then he smiled viciously. "I don't know. You would have to ask your father." They looked at each other and then both gave a small, satisfied smile and eyes filled with want. They were both so morbid.

After finishing up and closing the shop, they both took a night stroll punctuated with gratuitous hand-holding and make-outs, right beneath the starry sky.

Later around four o'clock, he called Bellatrix and inquired about Anastasia Steel. After cutting the call, he promptly threw his phone out the window.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

The leather of back seats of the Cadillac squeaked as Tom grounded Harry's lithe body into it. The interior of the car was hot and sweaty due to the rolled-up windows and the unexpected sunny day. Tom had parked the car in the empty parking lot a block away from the coffee shop.

Harry had his shift starting in ten minutes but Tom had intercepted him with a hard kiss before he could leave. That had led to a make-out session in the front seat and then transferred to the back.

Tom devoured his mouth as Harry clung to him, his legs spread apart and his arms looped around Tom's neck. He could feel the sweat gathering on his brow and his body temperature breaking the Fahrenheit scale.

"God why the fuck is your air conditioner not on?” Harry muttered in between kisses.

"Broken. Forgot about it," Tom replied as he moved to nibble Harry's earlobe.

"That's what you said last week! God how long has it been broken for? Truly?"

Tom trailed kisses down the bared column of neck and whispered, "Three years."

Harry laughed but it tapered off when there was no incoming correction. Tom caught on too late, still immersed in those intoxicating emotions twisting his stomach and making his head fuzzy.

A thumb and forefinger trapped his chin between then and tipped Tom's head up. He cursed internally when he saw the inquisitive look in those damn green eyes. He had forgotten how perceptive Potter was. 

He knew how much guts it had taken for Harry to bare himself to Tom and even though he knew Harry would never force him to tell, it would be in his best interest to do so. He needed Harry to have blind trust in him in case the deal he had struck with Rabastan ever came to light. Also a tiny part of him felt it was unfair to Harry because Tom knew himself and was aware that if it were upto him, he would avoid this conversation forever.

He sighed and then buried his face in Harry's neck. He couldn't do this face to face. "This is my Mom's car. She liked old stuff. Stuff with memories attached to them. Father didn't like it so Mom had to sequester them away in the basement. Old albums. Cracked sunglasses. The bike that I got for my tenth birthday with its broken headlights."

"Layers upon layers of dust-covered memories."

Tom could feel a sense of inevitable vulnerability creep into his voice and felt grateful for his hidden face and the warm arms holding him.

"When she died, Father sold it all away to the junkyard without even sifting through them to save some stuff. The things that had meant the world to my Mother meant nothing to him. I remember coming home from school and finding the empty basement. It all looked so desolate and bleak."

Tom could feel fingers caressing his head but he felt detached. Transported to the dry summer day in the basement standing alone on the hard floor. With no souvenirs. No mother. No memories.

He had lost someone who had seen his darkness and loved him unconditionally despite it.

He didn't want to step back into the past so he tried find something to focus on. Harry must have understood his predicament for he softly cupped his cheeks and then tightened them suddenly. Tom's gaze suddenly flashed to Harry's face and latched onto sloping jawline, patrician nose, marble brow. 

"Did this car belong to her?" Harry asked softly.

Tom could only nod his head.

"Then the air conditioner stays broken." The _beautiful, beautiful_ boy touched his forehead against Tom's and uttered those _beautiful, beautiful_ words. "We will preserve the memories Tom. Down to the last scratch."

A small smile pulled at his lips and Riddle felt a sense of contentment. He burrowed deeper into the hollow, inhaling Harry's scent and turned his head to drop a light kiss on the pale column of Harry's neck.

For the longest time, everyone had been puzzled with his choice of car. Old vintage Cadillac with scratches and a flickering tail light. Everyone but Bella. And now Harry.

Fingers caressed the waves of his hair, going deeper and then breaking to the surface at intervals. Tom closed his eyes and tightened his hold around Harry's waist. This might be the first time he hadn't thought about committing patricide when faced with memories of his Mom and times past.

"I have been meaning to ask. What's that painting?" The whispered question broke Tom's train of thoughts and he craned his neck around to look at the painting in question. It was a copy of Van Gogh's _The Night Cafe_ , bought earlier that week. "It's a Van Gogh painting for Bellatrix. I had been meaning to gift it to her," Tom explained.

_The Night Cafe_ , in Tom's perspective, was ugly. The red and green contrast felt punishing to the eye and the desolate theme of the painting depressing. He had glimpsed it during one of his nightly strolls and knew Bella would appreciate it.

"Bella is into morbid stuff like that," he added as he straightened to look at Harry. He had a small smile on face. At the raise of Tom's eyebrow, he says," You are close to her? Bellatrix?"

Tom didn't hesitate. "Yes. We have been friends since we were kids. She is the only one I trust."

Harry's smile slipped and his gaze turned slightly serious. "And me? Do you trust me?"

Tom gave a sharp smile before capturing Harry's swollen lips. _"Can't you see?"_

** ⍖  ** ⎮⎮ ** ⍏ **

The long, leaf-covered arms of the planted trees wavedto the soft breeze. It was normal to see their still forms against the backdrop of the scribbled walls and blue sky while leaning against the building wall across. This was the first time he was under them, supine on the rusty bench.

He turned his gaze to look at Harry. His beautiful Harry. His hair were still disheveled, his clothes rumpled, his tie tied atrociously. And yet Tom could feel the rose-tinted glasses of illusion perch on his nose and find all these messes endearing. Even the eye goop hidden by the frames.

"God Harry, at least wash your face if you are going to skip a bath." Maybe not all that endearing.

Harry chuckled and nudged Tom's head on his lap with his thigh. "I was running late. Didn't even have breakfast to digest your nagging."

The reply earned him a pinch on the thigh and then Tom was bringing Harry's stupid head down and planting a quick, heated kiss. And tasted him.

Tom's suspicions were correct. Harry really hadn't smoked the whole day. That was highly peculiar since Harry smoked like a chimney.

"Are you taking a break from smoking?" He asked, not quite believing it.

The green-eyed boy had been gazing at the building for a while and he directed his eyes to Tom again. "You sound surprised." 

"I am a little. What brought this about?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand though Tom's hair. "An intervention. Hermione did it two days ago, told me stop smoking before I start coughing up my own lungs. Showed me some disturbing videos too," Harry replied. "I feel scarred honestly.”

Tom gave a small smile and then turned impassive. Even though he was glad for this change, he didn't like the idea of Harry being forced into it. Something about Harry screams of being fiercely wilful and Tom liked the challenge. This was uncharacteristic. Harry surely wasn't that easy?

"Do you want that though? To quit I mean?" Tom explained at Harry's confused expression.

"Yeah," Harry answered softly. "I have been thinking about it for a few months actually. Just finally got the push to do it. Hermione wouldn't have been able to succeed if I didn't want it anyway."

Tom felt himself relax and his hand holding the cigarette he had been smoking grow heavy. Fuck. He hated feelings.

Tom took one last, long drag and threw the cigarette away.

"You had hardly smoked it. What are you doing?" Harry exclaimed as he saw Tom fish out the Marlboro pack from his pocket and throw it in the trash can beside the bench. 

"Quitting."

He averted his face to avoid looking at the sappy expression pasted on Harry's face. It was probably dripping tears of sugar. When Tom finally looked up, he caught the soft smile on Harry Potter's face and he knew no more.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

Tom and Harry had not revealed their relationship to anyone, veiling it behind a farce of ignorance towards each other's existence. They liked the secrecy for now, the idea of being in their own world set apart from others. Although Tom knew Harry wouldn't want this for long and the deal had to be taken care of before that or one wrong word from one wrong person and Harry might leave him.

For now though, Tom was lulled into a false sense of security by the new intimacy in their relationship. Being with Harry provided a new experience, the clouds of boredom dispelled and only excitement existed. Tom wanted to gorge himself on these feelings.

It was seven in the morning and the bell was going to ring any second. The school parking lot was draped under a dull atmosphere, everyone exhausted with their lives and the mundanity of it all.

Tom was surrounded by his group in their usual spot. Even Rabastan was present, having overcome his initial worries at witnessing Tom and Harry together. Three months had already passed since the deal was struck and no one dared to talk about it, afraid to remind Tom of it.

Frankly, Tom wanted to forget about it himself. But letting it go meant in another month, Rabastan would gain his confidence back and his uncouth mouth would start flapping. He also would lose the opportunity of using the Aspen property against them ever again.

But fulfilling it meant losing Harry because he wasn't stupid enough to believe this wouldn't reach Harry's ears, especially if the Lestrange brothers get to know how close he had gotten to the Potter heir.

Tom had to find a solution for this and fast.

Bellatrix had been staring at him for a while now and when Tom turned to glance at her, she offered her cigarette to him. Tom declined with a shake of his head and got distracted by the arrival of a lean figure swathed in unironed clothes. Tom felt a small smile take over his face as he saw Harry thrust his shirt inside his pants and try to tame his hair.

Almost as if feeling eyes on him, Harry gave a sharp glance in his direction and slowed his pace. Even from such a distance, Tom could spy a smile on his face. Tom felt an ache, a gnawing pit begging for more. He wanted that body close to him, bound to him that there was no hope of escaping.

The next few days saw a repeat of the same events and soon they were noticing each other everywhere. He was too aware of the green eyes of his lover far away that he was unaware of the green-eyed monsters nearby.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

Harry's room turned out to be as interesting as the owner itself. There was a clean disorder in the giant space, the whole room sectioned like neat slices of cake and each section allotted to various interests. He could see a whole table littered with variations of tarot packs, occult science textbooks and jars upon jars filled with coloured liquids lining the sledge of the nearby window.

He could recognize some of the hand-drawn diagrams pasted haphazardly on the wall, information garnered from Bellatrix’s ramblings. “I think you and Bella would get on well.”

Tom didn’t have to turn around to know that Harry was fake projectile vomiting at his remark. He tempered his laugh and continued his survey.

There was an area reserved for language learning and music theory. He could see an opened notebook for handwritten notes on learning Italian and a Sanskrit-English dictionary, courtesy of Hermione Granger probably. There were piles of French and Sanskrit workbooks with music sheets sticking out haphazardly.

The last space was, from what Tom could guess, for school since it looked barely touched. The chemistry textbook was glossy as ever and the Biology one looked good enough to be sold at a higher rate than the selling price. Tom couldn't help but give a fond huff.

When he turned around, taking in the cream coloured wallpaper, Harry was leaning against his door with his legs crossed and arms folded. His head was tipped back, his long neck exposed and so were his forearms courtesy of rolled-up sleeves. And those green eyes were watching him from behind the fallen strands of hair.

God, Tom had never felt more aroused. He took slow steps towards the enticing figure, liking the prolongation of the tension between them. Tom could even taste it when there was hardly any space between them, his tongue slipping out to run over Harry's upper lip. His fingers slowly traced the inner lining of Harry's washed out jeans before settling a broad palm on the junction of his right thigh.

When Tom stopped tracing soft lips, Harry's own tongue peeked out and licked broad stripe across the lining of his jaw before rushing to bury his head in the crook of his neck, licking whatever skin he could find.

Tom felt a moan escape his mouth and clamped it midway when he felt an answering smirk against his skin. Another lick, another swipe. And Tom held it all in. Until Harry introduced his teeth. The light nibbles had him closing his eyes and soon he was yanking Harry's head back and crushing his mouth against a willing one.

After that sensations blurred into one another, Tom riding the high of it all. He doesn't remember moving onto the bed and getting half-dressed. All his eyes could see was pale skin, dark hair and beautiful eyes.

Feverish hands ran over Tom's body, Harry himself reduced to his own pleasure and want. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off slightly toned chest and a flush ran over the skin upto his neck. Tom climbed over him, pressing Harry's body down and initiating a trail of hard kisses down to his navel.

He immediately climbed back upward to press a rough kiss while his hands unbuttoned Harry's jeans in a quick manoeuvre. He waited patiently for Harry to do the same but when Harry was too slow to do it, he came back to his senses. He could feel the tremble of Harry's hands and see the hesitancy in his eyes.

Suddenly, it became crystal clear to Tom that he had the chance to win the deal. Despite his hesitancy, he knew Harry would go through it. Tomorrow he could declare his win and in a week or two have Lestrange's Aspen house in his name. He had the necessary paperwork drawn up by Rabastan in the initial days itself.

Tom would finally win it all.

He slowly wrapped his hands around Harry's rough ones and then pulled them away.

"What are you doing? I thought we were going to..." Harry trailed off, confusion rather than embarrassment preventing him from completing his sentence.

Tom gave a small smile. "Not today, darling."

He could already feel Harry gearing up to protest, his stubbornness choosing that odd moment to rear its head. "If you are doing this out of some misplaced sense—"

Tom cut him off. " I'm doing this for me. I’m not ready." Anyone who knew him could have sensed the lie and Harry knew him too well. But he remained silent, his eyes holding a glimmer of something Tom didn't know. It was gone in a flash, replaced by a seductive gleam.

He pulled himself closer to Tom and then guided him to lay flat on the bed. He arched his body like a panther, all smooth lines and curves and slowly moved his face down Tom's chest. "Who said if we can't have sex, we also can't do other stuff?" Harry whispered mischievously and unbuttoned Tom's pants with confident hands. Tom closed his eyes. 

Somehow, this hardly felt like a loss.

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

A tall male loomed around the corner of the Indoor Sports Building, his visage slightly pale and his foot tapping relentlessly on the ground. It had been three days. Three whole days without a sight or word from Harry. Three days walking with a sense of foreboding, righteous karma at his heels. 

Tom wasn't an idiot. The minute Harry had gone MIA, he had immediately moved to verify his safety. After calling Harry’s work place, he had got to know that Harry had requested a few days off. He had personally driven to the Potter manor to ensure and had seen the lithe figure sitting on his window sill. 

Harry had immediately noticed him, his neck snapping down towards the vintage Cadillac idling near the house. Even from afar, Tom had known Harry could feel his obsessive gaze. 

In return, Tom had felt the cold, unemotional demand to stay away. 

He had driven away in a rush of noise, the unadulterated fear of losing Harry trailing after him like a pack of wild beasts. He hadn't let the days pass idly. He had an inkling that Harry was aware of the deal, to some extent at least. His first suspicion had naturally been Rabastan but Tom had dismissed it. The younger Lestrange didn't have the spine for it but the older one _however..._

It was quite damning that Rodolphus had conveniently disappeared under the pretext of learning the ropes for the family business from his father.

Bella hadn't even crossed his mind, being the only person in their group that he would never doubt. Rosier had been an afterthought, someone who had never stepped out of bound. Tom had naturally dropped him from the list.

For now though, Tom was prepared to curb the damage inflicted from the deal and prevent Harry from leaving him. The last was simply not an acceptable outcome. 

He had received a text from the raven-haired male during break to meet him at their usual spot, at the usual time. Tom wouldn't admit it but he has been nervous since then, a heavy ball of lead cramping his stomach. 

Tom took a deep breath and put on his Noh mask to face the situation. He turned round the corner and spotted the lone figure at the same place as the first time. Tom could feel it was deliberate. 

The beginning is the end.

Tom greedily took him in, his eyes roving obsessively over the messy hair, the impassive face, the coiled countenance. He felt a rush of tenderness at the sight and was afraid it might be showing on his face.

“Harry."

The utterance felt like a plead and a sacrilege. He waited for Harry to look up, to look at him. But he got nothing except a deep sigh.

"You know, for the past three days I have been thinking, Why me? Except for a few acknowledgements here and there we didn't know each other. Same with Rabastan. I never did anything to you guys to warrant this."

"Then I realised it was precisely just that. I was less than nobody at that time so it didn't matter how I would feel. I was just a lottery ticket, a means to get the prize. Entirely replaceable. Entirely unworthy of a single shred of respect.”

"No no no, Harry. You ar—"

"Wrong about this? Are you denying it then? You weren't going to use me?" Harry practically spit the words at him. He put up a hand immediately when Tom tried to speak. "Spare me the lies, Tom. I can't believe you used me for a stupid fuckin' house. Don't you have enough money as it is?" 

How was he supposed to tell Harry that it was to show Rabastan his place? Especially when it all feels so meaningless now? So uselessly petty? 

Tom had come prepared with certain arguments, certain assurances to appeal Harry but he could see now they would only serve to push Harry further away. He felt his contingencies crumble like sandcastles against the damning wave of Harry's emotions. He grappled for something, anything to divert the course of this conversation from the imminent crash.

He had to acknowledge his mistake in this, apologise sincerely to pacify the figure coiled with righteous anger. But then what? Harry thought everything was bullshit from his side right? It was not. God, it was not. He had to make Harry believe that.

Riddle immediately grabbed Harry’s arm when he made to leave and pleaded, albeit subtly, his pride rearing its head. "Harry, I admit it. At that time, I hadn't given it much thought. Rabastan had challenged me and that's all I saw. It was heartless of me not to consider your feelings, the unwitting participant." 

Tom raked a hand through his hair and bared his emotions a bit more. "I-I am not good at this, Harry. Caring about other's feelings. I am single-minded about reaching my goal and mostly I don't care whose in the line of fire.”

Harry needed to know this. This was not something Tom could change about himself. This disregard for others was a quality entrenched deep. But that didn't mean there weren't exceptions. "But Harry, our first meeting changed everything. You have got to believe that." He cautiously extended his hand and softly cupped Harry's cheek. "I am not a nice man, darling. But for you I'm willing to try. I'm willing to do anything to make up to you for this.”

Tom could feel the talons of fear ease when he saw Harry wavering but it all came crashing down when he saw Harry's face harden, like it still wasn't enough. _No no no._

_Fuck it_ , he might as well go all in. This was not the time to hide his feelings. 

"Harry _fuckin'_ Potter," Tom tightened his hold around Harry's face and gave him a quick kiss. "I am in love with you. So for god's sake, give us another chance." 

He waited in anticipation and uncertainty as those green eyes stared back at him. He could feel his stomach hollow and his heart break as Harry lowered his head. God, no. 

But then Harry reared his head up with a mischievous smirk on his face. Despite not understanding, Tom suddenly felt like he had been played. 

The atmosphere changed, a sort of electric tension slowly growing. Harry stepped closer to him, his body moulding against Tom's and his head moved forward until soft lips touched his ear. " _Tom, Tom, Tom_. I have to say, I am kind of offended you thought I was this gullible." 

Burgundy eyes widened at the words. What is happening? 

"I grew up in a house with as much secrets as wealth. I knew you were hiding something the minute you approached me, Tom. Although I was a little surprised with the deal and what it entailed. _How juvenile_." A nip at his ear accompanied in reprimand. 

Tom felt blindsided. Used. And a bit angry. "So this whole encounter just now was a game?" The bitter words were out before he could stop them. 

Harry immediately yanked his head back. "Don't lose sight of your own mistake, sweetheart. I just tried to level the playing field, make you feel a fraction of what I _did_ feel, Tom. Despite knowing better.”

The anger seeped out before the reply even finished. He had no standing ground right now. He lowered his head slowly against the pull and looked into furious eyes. His beautiful darling. "I'm sorry, Harry.”

When Tom saw his shoulders slump at the unexpected apology, he instantly embraced Harry, guided his head to rest in the crook of Tom's neck. "I really am.”

Upon the answering nod,Tom instantly felt a thousand times lighter. He gave a soft laugh when Harry mumbled his demand. "You have a lot of making up to do.”

Despite the outcome, Tom still had a question nagging him. "Were you really not going to leave me despite how today would have played out?…And who told you about the deal?" Okay, maybe two questions.

The shorter man gave a huff of exasperation. "For your first question, I honestly had no idea. All I knew that if it felt worth it, I would stay. After all, I knew something was underway when we started interacting and still played along. And for the second one, it was Rosier.”

What?

Tom mirrored the sentiment as he reared back from the hug. “Why?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and pulled him back into the hug. "Most likely jealousy. He did look head over heels in love with you. God, that ass was so smug when he told me about the deal. Imagine his face when I told him we were going to move in together when college started."

"I never said that." 

"Aren't you going to then?" Tom smiled at Harry's innocent expression. Even thought it must have been said to rattle Rosier at that time and he could easily see Potter try to back out of this in a few months, Tom still wanted to do it. 

"Yes, I will." He kissed the cheeky smile away from that stupid face and dived headlong into the sea of accompanying emotions.

“Oh, I forgot. I’m not a virgin, you dumbass.”

**⍖** ⎮⎮ **⍏**

"Why didn't you turn away from me on the first day? You could have.”

"My oracle bones hinted that a new path would be presented to me that day and things would change if I tread it. Only it had to be walked without reservations. So I took the risk." 

"Does it feel worth it?”

"..." "Yes, it does. Worth it enough to not mind if heaven does look like this.”

"As above, so below." 

“And as below, so above.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Med school has been kicking my ass even in quarantine. This whole story was written in gaps, whenever I could find some time so it might not be wholly cohesive. Bear with me.  
> I really wanted to include more Hermione into this but I just didn't have the peace needed to flesh her out and include her. I like writing about my culture through her. Maybe in the next chapter I might since it would have different povs. Bella and Harry are already selected.
> 
> Fun fact: All of Harry's interest in this story have been my own. I had Sanskrit as my elective for four years back in school and had also learnt some french through my friends. Witchcraft n all have been on and off interests. In quarantine I have been learning sign language, music theory and Italian and I recommend everyone to try them out. 
> 
> I appreciate comments/kudos! They are highly motivating :)
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://circleofplanets.tumblr.com/)! Ask me anything and follow for updates!


	2. Chapter 2

_ Cause i'm feeling like a creep here  
Standing on the outside  
Tunnel vision stares cut to the bone  
I'm not looking for a savior  
I just need somebody  
Telling me I'm not in this alone _

_ Freak Like Me _ **Transviolet**

Bellatrix had met Tom Riddle when she was nine. 

She had been throwing rocks at the back windows of a house down the street that had vacated a month ago. She had been successful in cracking the window of the attic, something the real estate agent had remained oblivious to. It was an activity picked out of boredom, a recluse from the ostracisation. 

She remembers the feel of her toes curling into the ground, the cooling effect of the wet mud, the green grass scrunched under her bare feet. Her mother had brought her a new pair of shoes that day to replace her 'lost' ones. Bellatrix had promptly dumped them in the open drain at the first opportunity.

She had been angry that day. Sad too. 

She was one the only one on the block without any friends. The boys found her to be too honest and loud-mouthed while the girls thought her too vicious and crude. Well, as much crude and loud-mouthed a child could be at that age. 

She didn't have her own people like Andromeda, with her human rights activist group or Narcissa, part of the top clique of her senior year. Her family name had worked for a while, but Bellatrix knew where she wasn’t wanted.

Druella Black had tried to comfort her daughter in her own cold way. "Bella, children are mud-mould of their parents. They will break the mould when they grow a little more. They will be more different too. “

“The only difference between you and them is that you already have. Now recite the ingredients for a protection vial." 

So she remained indifferent. 

She was more of a ' _bellatrix'_ than a _'bella'_ anyway. 

Until Tom that is. 

She had been too distracted that day to notice the brakes of a car, the scraping of wheels. Unaware of the additional presence that had slinked into the back of the garden. 

"Who are you?" 

Bellatrix immediately had turned and threw the rock at the boy in reflex. He had startled her badly. The rock had gone flying overhead and for a minute, both had followed it’s pitiful trajectory. 

"I will ask you again. Who are you?" She had looked at him, his ironed clothes, his polished shoes, his annoyed face. 

Tom hadn't been good at hiding his expressions then, Bellatrix think wryly. It had been a prime opportunity for her. Here was a boy new to the neighbourhood, had no friends, didn't know about her pariah status. She had thought about imitating the way other girls used to act, to blunt her personality and maybe he wouldn't run away like others. 

She had upturned her nose and asked him snootily," _Who are you?_ My family has been in this neighbourhood since before even your stupid grandparents were born." 

She had chosen to be herself. Her best fuckin' decision to date. 

They had become friends that day. And after Tom had stopped laughing at her, they had both thrown stones at his new house together.

That was also the day Tom had started calling her _Bella._

“Well, you are both. Sometimes you forget it, so the onus falls upon me to remind you,” Tom had answered when she had courageously asked a few months later, in that cultured voice he had picked up from the other kids. 

‘Onus’, she snorts. What a big fuckin’ word for a nine-year old.

Bellatrix flicked the ashes to the side and took another drag. They were in the school parking lot, waiting for the bell to ring and start the dreary day. She narrowed her eyes at the tall male beside her. Tom was probably waiting for his boyfriend to show up.

She took a leisurely sweep across the space and then directed her stare to Tom again. Rodolphus and _ickle baby_ Rabastan were bickering, their spirits high since Tom had let the Aspen house be. Still, they were in Tom's debt. 

Rosier was burning a hole into the ground, his jealousy acidic and steaming. Riddle had told her everything two weeks ago. When she had inquired what he was going to do about Evan, he had simply shrugged. 

"Harry's business. He didn't want me to do anything to Rosier. Probably just wants punish him by showing him that he hadn't affected mine and Harry's relationship." 

Bellatrix had offered to stab him. Tom had just laughed. 

When Tom’s vacant gaze suddenly focused, she followed it to see Harry Potter entering the school grounds, his hair whipping to and fro and with his signature messy clothes. Harry Potter had been the last guy Bellatrix would have thought Tom would go for. But they somehow fit, both unique in their own ways and Tom's never been this happy before so she kept her mouth shut. 

Her eyes involuntarily drifted to the girl beside Harry, with her fitting purple suit and her multicoloured salwaar flapping with the wind. That heavy bag filled with unnecessary amount of books that had come to be her trademark. 

_ Hermione Advani Granger. _

The ruby that stalked the halls of this undeserving school. Someone with both intelligence and humanity, unlike some who sacrificed one for another. She sometimes reminded Bella of Andromeda,

She also had that extraordinary aura just like Tom and Harry.

Bellatrix had been looking at her for so long. Hermione with her soft, full lips, her beautiful dark skin, the bright bindi she never failed to wear, the shimmering earrings that were handed down her family. 

Someone who was out of Bellatrix's league. 

So she looked from afar, secretively and wantonly. 

_ (She ached.) _

She turned away, threw the cigarette and tossed a mentos into her mouth. 

Some things were better forgotten. 

_ Bad, bad news  
One of us is gonna lose  
I'm the powder, you’re the fuse  
Just add some friction  
  
You are my strange addiction _

_Strange Addiction_ **Billie Eilish**

The wind chimes out in the balcony tinkled with the wind, the sound carrying into the spacious living room where Harry was perched on the edge of his sofa. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms and then flopped back. His bleary gaze focused on the pirated copy of _Lamia_ by John William Waterhouse hung above the rectangular crockery cupboard. Tom had bought it at a yard sale when they had gone on one of their evening walks. 

Hermione had immediately understood the meaning when she had first entered their living room. Over dinner, she had shrewdly looked up from her plate and inquired. 

"So _who_ is the half-monster?" 

Tom had neatly cut a piece of steak and replied in what Harry liked to call _'stick up the ass'_ accent,"Your question implies a singular participant. You could not be more wrong." 

When Hermione's eyes had immediately flashed to him, Harry had just rolled his eyes. He had mouthed a reassuring 'he is messing with you'. 

_ (Harry hadn’t been entirely truthful) _

The whole living room, _neigh_ , the whole apartment was a nitpicked, clutter of both Harry and Tom's choices. A new blanket stitched over with old, fraying materials. Half of their stuff were from second-hand shops and yard sales, the furniture a contrast to the expensive apartment they had. 

Tom had cashed in his debt from Lestrange and got this apartment in one of their buildings. Harry had been angry at first, adamant on living in a place bought with their own money. Then Tom had grabbed his face and kissed him to shut up his tirade which had only made Harry more angry. 

" _Baby_ , listen. I want a place of our own too. Desperately. But we just got out of school. We both have just started our businesses and since we are not using our family money or name, they are going to take time to take off." 

Harry hated it when Tom was so rational about some of their arguments. When he had seen the fight leave Harry's frame, the tall male had engulfed him into a tight hug and then rested his chin on messy hair. "I don't want us to worry about money for now. I just want to enjoy our relationship without the stress of both mortgage and business. College too." Harry still remembers the soft kiss Tom had dropped on his head. It had done something to his heart. 

"When we have more money in our savings account, we will buy an apartment of your choice." Tom had moved back and whispered,"How about that?" 

Harry had burrowed back into the warmth of Tom's chest and nuzzled it furiously. Then he had mumbled a _'my choice right?'_ and Tom had laughed _so_ sweetly, a testament to how surprisingly adorable he had found Harry at that moment. 

That was the first time Harry had heard it. Sometimes, after they are done fighting, Harry replays that laugh and something settles inside him and the fight doesn't seem as big. After all, Tom had promised him a future.

_ (Sometimes, Harry has to play the laugh again and again. A tape on infinite rewind to drown out the voices telling, **screeching** at him, _

_ ’You have done it. He is going to cheat on you this time.’  _

_ ‘You are going to cheat on him. After all, you are **your** mother’s son.’) _

The older male had started his own micro-lending company and pulled in investments both from Black and Lestrange family. Thankfully, his boyfriend had enough sense not to let the Rosier family also invest. That wouldn't have spelled well in terms of future relationship considering Evan still wanted Tom and would love to see Harry buried six feet under. 

Harry had also started his own small online website for handmade goods, specialising in the obscure and the aesthetic with a special focus on Wicca goods. Two months in, he had partnered up with Luna Lovegood and soon his products were being advertised in the glossy sheets of _The Quibbler_. It had a niche but surprisingly wide audience and few of his products had become instant hits. 

The small success had also brought along stress. Harry had become excited, wanted to launch new products with a feverish intensity. But sometimes his mind was ahead of his skills and he grew frustrated and cranky. 

Surprisingly enough, it was Tom that had got him out of the slump the first time and the times after too.

The green-eyed boy felt his lips quirk. Tom loved Harry but he didn't much believe in the larger, invisible entity. He had been willing to try though when he had seen Harry slumped across his haphazard, unfinished works and moaning about what a failure he was. 

Riddle hadn't taken any of his pitiful bitching and had spoken in his nonchalant drawl,"Well, if you were such a failure then I wouldn't be with you.”

_What a fuckin’ arrogant statement._ But helpful too. For Harry knew Tom and knew Riddle wouldn't be with him if he didn't think of Harry as worthy as he thought of himself. 

The earlier despondent male had immediately thrown his screwed up product in the bin and started anew and when one of Harry's own scented ' _Success'_ candle was set beside his workplace, he had given Tom a hard kiss. 

A week later, when he had been rummaging through Tom's wallet for money and had seen the screwed up, thrown away Celtic keychain nestled in one of the pockets, he had never been more grateful for _Tom Marvolo Riddle._

Tom's trust in himself was unflinching and it had seemed, so was his trust in Harry. 

The black-haired male closed his eyes and let them rest for a while, content with his life like he never had been before. He didn't know how much time had passed, when it was moving like a soft breeze beneath his consciousness. He felt suspended between a sleep and awake state. 

The soft rattle of keys, the opening of a door and the removal of shoes slowly woke him. A bearing presence behind him and he hyperextended his head, ready for the kiss that was equal parts rough and warm. 

"God, I missed that mouth." 

Harry chuckled softly against slightly thin, red lips and hooked a languid arm around Tom's long neck. 

"I missed you too, _asshole._ " Tom bit his lower lip in reprimand. 

"You know just how to make my heart flutter." 

Harry finally opened his eyes to look up at his boyfriend's amused face. His stupid, gorgeous boyfriend. 

"I'm hungry. Make me food." His grumpy tone got an eye-roll. 

"After I shower." 

"Will you take long?" 

"Not unless you join me." And then Riddle threw a lascivious wink over his shoulder and entered the bathroom. 

Harry looked at the wall, then at the unlocked bathroom door and then at his clothes. In a flash, he was speed-walking to the bathroom, a trail of clothes left in his stead. 

Tom fucked him long and hard against the wall and then in the bath again. 

Round three was rain-checked because Harry really was hungry.

There was a routine to how Tom cooked. 

He would first connect his phone to bluetooth but would not start the music yet. Then he would flip through the cookbook as if randomly selecting a dish but Harry knew it wasn't so. 

Now that the already selected dish has been decided again, the banging of cupboard doors would start and soon there would be a line-up of all the required ingredients and jars on the island instead of the kitchen counter. 

Finally Tom would go to the apron that he found to be despicable, hanging innocently off the hook. The apron was hot red in colour and had a saying in bold, white letterings _'Will Cook For Sex'_ splattered across the chest. 

It didn't help that the apron was indecently low-cut. 

The only reason Tom hadn't flung it out of the window because it had been a gift from Harry. 

The Quibbler's affiliated factory had brought in a new line of aprons for manufacturing and he had been unable to resist. It also helped that Harry had agreed to do one thing for Tom every time he wore it. Some things were just worth the sacrifice. 

His boyfriend acted too high and mighty sometimes. This was a good lesson in instilling some humility. 

And getting some laughs. 

Tom ripped it off the hook and put it on, his face pulled into a sneer and a mantra he kept on grumbling to himself. "One thing done your way. Worth it. **Worth it**." 

Harry hid a fond smile behind his hand and swivelled on the chair lined up against the island. "God, Tom. Get on with it!" 

Tom ignored him and picked up his phone to start the playlist. Then, dutifully, he moved towards the island and gave Harry a hard kiss from across it. His boyfriend was a pretentious prat so of course some stupid classical music was on. Harry kept handing over salt, sugar, ‘No, Harry. _The cardamom!_ ’ in the midst of _Vivaldi’s Four Seasons_ and Tom’s impatient demands.

When he couldn't take it any longer, he connected his own phone to the bluetooth and changed it to _Doja Cat's Juicy._ He grinned at Tom's scandalised face and simply waved his hands in the air. 

"Change it back, Harry or I would beat this ladle enough times on your ass to make it juicy." Harry threw his head back and cackled. "Give it your best shot, _babe_. I might even like it." 

An exasperated huff and Tom turned back to the cooking, trying his best to tune it all out. 

After a while, when he knew Tom was reaching his breaking point, Harry changed it back to Tom's favourite playlist that he had downloaded on his own phone.

Despite his turned back, Harry knew Tom was smiling. 

Tom and Harry had a well-thought out system. On the days that Tom cooked, Harry got to choose the show they would watch and vice-versa. The moment Tom had got to know Harry's shows of choice in the earlier days, he had tried to back out. 

Indian TV Soaps. 

Hermione had introduced them to Harry in sixth grade on a sleepover, her face flustered and pinky extended to promise her not to judge. 

Harry's teasing had been short-lived when he himself got hooked. He had been reliant on Hermione for verbal translation for a while. Soon they both had started searching for Indian soaps online with english subtitles. On Harry's birthday too, Hermione had started giving him tapes of shows that she herself had translated when they couldn't find them online and he had desperately wanted to see. 

Tom hated them with a passion. Always complained about his brain cells melting or the atrocious editing and flashbacks making him realise what punishment in hell was like. 

"Good. Then I am simply preparing you for your inevitable trip there after I murder you. Now shut up and let me see _Gopi_ survive the car crash and blast,”

Tom had soon taken to lying on the sofa laterally with Harry's back snuggled against his chest and their legs spread long. He would scroll through his phone while balancing his plate sometimes on the arm rest, sometimes on Harry's head. Today, after washing the dishes, Harry went right back to watching the show because _goddamnit,_ does _Gopi_ survive or not?! 

He could hear Tom huff from behind him and in a minute, he threw a rolled-up blanket right at Harry's head. 

Harry remained unfazed, his eyes glued to the TV and shouted a distracted _'thank you babe’._

He could feel Tom's glare. 

_Gopi_ escapes the burning car right before it self-destructs into pieces.

_ Totally worth it. _

_Let me tell you one thing for sure_   
_You're the only one I want more of_   
_'Cause every time you strip away my pride_   
_Humble me down to my knees_   
_You're exactly what I need, you're exactly_

_Aphrodite_ **Rini**

When the clock struck twelve, Tom discarded his pen and shut his notebook. He did some stretches and then got up. Grabbed the bottle from his desk and guzzled water as he entered the living room. 

As he expected, Harry was fast asleep, curled up in the blanket akin to a stupid, cute burrito. Tom descended on the balls of his feet so he could look at Harry, uninterrupted and without his smart mouth acting. 

There were bags under Harry's eyes, dark shadows on otherwise healthy skin. Tom frowned. He has been stressed again and trying to brave through it without confiding in Tom. 

He could feel a tendril of darkness slither close. Harry's his. So are his worries. His thoughts. _His everything_. 

Tom had been deluded when he had thought that the more he would get to know Harry, the less he will feel. Harry was now rooted in the muscle, in the sinew, in the very fibre of his being. 

And so was _he_ in Harry’s. Tom had made sure of that. 

Leaving each other would never be an option. 

His large hands cupped Harry's face, wanting to just feel. He felt reluctant to wake his darling but sleeping on the sofa would definitely crick his neck. He also hadn't brushed. 

Tom gave a hopeless smile that he would never show out of the privacy of these four walls. _This boy._

He tapped his finger on Harry's cheek. Once. Twice. Another two. Then captured those soft lips, a song and dance that he was now used to. Another repetitive addition to his routine that he couldn't even think about hating. 

Harry's eyelashes fluttered, his body now awake but his mind still grasping for awareness. " _Sweetheart_ , let’s get you ready for bed.”

At the sight of a lazy smile, Tom scooped the loose-limbed body from his veritable nest and carried him bridal-style to their en-suite bathroom. He deposited Harry on the countertop, pulled out their toothbrushes and paste and set to work.

After a minute passed, on cue, Harry's hold on his toothbrush grew lax and Tom replaced his own hold with Harry’s. Potter might be content with sub-par hygiene but not Tom.

After brushing both their teeth, Tom turned to Harry who already had his arms stuck out, waiting to be carried to their bed. His eyes were still half-lidded with sleep and Tom wished he could wake his darling by fucking him, _slowly_ and _deeply_.

Maybe some other day.

For now, he carries Harry to the bed and folds him under the blanket. He arranges the pillows just as Harry likes them, one under his head and one under his leg. When he moves to turn off the lights in the hallway, a hand snakes out, grabs his and pulls. 

When Tom is close enough, Harry cracks an eye open and whispers. "Hmm, love you, Tommy." 

Tom huffs a laugh. _God_ , what an idiot. 

"I know you do.”

Harry wriggles. "You could say it back. But it's okay. I already know." 

"I always know.”

Tom looks at him silently, stunned. Slowly, he gets up and turns the light off in the hallway, the bathroom, then the bedside lamp. He slides under the cover and completely wraps himself around Harry, enveloped in the scent of the man who was now his family. 

Then slowly, with bated breath, Tom whispers, 

_"I hope you always know." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! IT IS DONE!  
> Sorry for taking so long but I had a lot on my plate. Inspiration struck and I churned this out in three days.  
> I know how fluffy this chapter was but in my defence i had read a very dark fic and to bat away its effects, I wrote this chapter extra-fluffy  
> Shoutout to that one commenter who thought 'vicious things' had a plot that felt like an Indian tv soap. After seeing that comment, i had to put it in because half my childhood was filled with trashy indian shows and they just really fit with hermione and harry's relationship  
> Thank you for the support! They really motivated me in finally picking up and writing the last chapter! All the comments are my prized babies!
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://circleofplanets.tumblr.com/)! Ask me anything and follow for updates! I would love to interact and answer stuff!
> 
> P.S. Gopi is a character from Saath Nibhana Saathiya. I have no fuckin' clue if there was a car accident scene but it seemed in line with the Indian Formula Of Making TV. I haven't seen that show since Netflix came on.


End file.
